Since graduating from the University of Cape Town with a degree in Violin Performance, British‑South African artist and producer Galina Juritz has worked with groups like ShhArt Ensemble and Inclementine and composed numerous film and animation soundtracks. One Weird Trick is her first studio album, mingling jazz, electronic, ambient and orchestral sounds.

At the moment I can’t stop listening to

Alas, like many other parents of toddlers, the Go Jetters soundtrack on CBeebies is the thing I hear day in and day out. It’s got an uptempo disco intro that, to be fair, is a pretty vibey way to start the day at 7am! But some standout discoveries of the past while have been Alvarezz’s La Línea Imaginaria, Growth Eternal’s Bass Tone Paintings and Reinier Baas’ Reinier Baas vs. Princess Discombobulatrix.

Being part of the Kit Records family, I am blessed to have a world of weird and wonderful music in constant circulation — and many artists on the roster, and from elsewhere, passing through London have spent nights on my couch. At some point next year Cara Stacey and myself will be resuming our radio show Run Amok, where we dive into the vaults of music we’ve had on repeat.

The artist I’d most like to collaborate with

Again, so many! But maybe I’d form a trio with Jon Bap and the soundscape sorceress and composer Hildur Guðnadóttir, who created the Chernobyl soundtrack — two living legends of our time. I don’t really know what they’d do with me, probably sample my whimpering murmurs of adulation and reharmonise them. Jon Bap is also partial to scruffy DIY aesthetics, so maybe the two of them could rehearse and send me out into the streets with an iPhone in the hope that I might record something interesting for an interlude! Hildur may allow me to scrape a few stringy notes out, with the caveat they were recorded outside an industrial concrete carpark‑turned‑nightclub, with the groans of inebriated attendees covering a nice muddy frequency range. And if Louis Cole could pop into the room every now and then he’d lighten the mood and make sure the humour in the music was always detectable.

The first thing I look for in a studio

I look for a warm and inviting ambience. A space people would want to spend many hours in, like a kind of magical hideout den, away from regular life. You want that ease of workflow, so you can be spontaneous and capture new ideas quickly. I also always enjoy identifying unique pieces of gear in a person’s studio — maybe a warm vintage compressor or an uncommon instrument lying around — and finding out what it means to them and why. People reveal so much about their musical identities through their relationships with these inanimate objects. For me, every piece of gear I own has a story, like the very first extremely cheap and nasty guitar multi‑effects pedal I ever put my violin through that used to shriek with feedback, or the mini Fender bass I got from my partner for my birthday after recently moving back to London... or my TUL F47 microphone, dented in every direction from moving countries multiple...